


Winds of Change

by sphinxvictorian



Category: Mary Poppins (1964)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphinxvictorian/pseuds/sphinxvictorian
Summary: Mary Poppins has her first assignment as a nanny.  A family needs her help and she needs all the luck a chimneysweep's handshake can give her.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duckgirlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckgirlie/gifts).



This morning’s flight was not going at all well.  First there was that flock of rather pushy seagulls over the Thames who would not let her pass.  Then that horrid child’s balloon that had drifted into her face and refused to budge for at least a minute.

Mary Poppins prided herself on her unerring talent at flying via umbrella.  She’d been top of her class at the academy, after all.  But, then, flying in the smoke-filled skies of London was much more difficult than in the rarefied air of the Godmother’s Academy in Snowdonia. 

At long last, Mary espied the house to which she had been referred for her first proper nanny job.  It was a tall house, part of a row of very smart Georgian brick row houses in Harley Street.  It was a doctor’s family she’d been assigned to.  The doctor was recently widowed, and the children were in great need of love and guidance of the sort that only a proper nanny could provide.

Mary attempted to guide the umbrella towards the front stoop, but just then a bright fresh little tail wind caught up under the umbrella and swept her up higher than the rooftop.  She gave the bird's head handle of the umbrella a very severe and chastening tap on the beak.  It gave an indignant squawk, but it stopped swerving about long enough for her to gain control and head toward the rooftop, where she could get a handle on things and make a proper appearance.  Just as she was coming down, a little fast for her liking, there was suddenly a dark form right in her way.  It was too late to swerve, and she landed right on the figure, which gave a loud “Oof” as its arms went round her.  She found herself very soon lying indecorously atop the roof, covered in soot, and a tall soot-covered man standing above her, with a saucy grin on his face.

“Here, now, missus, you ought to be careful how you come down on a chap.  You nearly had us both topsy-turvy, and no mistake!”

He held out a grimy hand, and since her own hand was none too clean, she gave a little shrug and allowed him to help her to her feet.

“My apologies, my good man.  I hope I didn’t injure you.”

He let out a loud laugh, rather like her old Uncle Albert, and then said, “Lord bless me, no!  A little thing like you?  I’m Bert Higgins, by the way.  And who might you be?  And what, exactly, might you be?”  He gave her a long look up and down, shaking his head a bit.

“Miss Mary Poppins, I’ve come to be a nanny to the children in the house below.”  She looked at the watch pinned to her jacket.  “But oh, I must look a sight!  I have to present myself to Doctor MacGregor in just a moment, and I will just have to find my-“ and with that, she opened her carpetbag and began to rummage about in it.  “Now, I know it’s here somewhere, oh, now honestly, I packed it this morning-“

Her hand had reached the first level of the bag, and she pushed aside the partition, and kept going, her whole arm disappearing inside now, as she felt about for her mirror.  “No, that’s my aspidistra, that’s my coat rack, oh, I know it’s here some—Got it!”

Her hand closed on the frame of the mirror and she pulled it out.  She glanced up for a moment at Bert, expecting him to be shocked or astonished, but he was just grinning away.  She wondered if he might be a bit simple.  But then, we all are given what we are given, and there is nothing to say that he might not have a good heart.

She took the mirror and propped it against a railing next to a chimney, at about the height of her head.  She removed her hat, and still aware of her interested audience of one, she refrained from using a snap of her fingers to fix the disarranged cherries on the hat band.  But her hair and clothing was another matter.  She sighed and thought to herself, in for a penny, in for a pound, and gave a loud snap with her fingers.

Immediately her hair rearranged itself, the soot was magically whisked off of her suit and stockings and shoes, as well as her hands and face.  The cherries on her hat rearranged themselves as she placed it back on her head.  All fixed in a matter of a minute.

She turned back to see Bert, now truly and properly amazed, and he just started applauding and laughing. 

“Oh, but Miss Poppins!  That was beeyootiful!  I’ve never seen anything like it in my life, and I’ve seen some things, being a chimneysweep and all.  But you fair took my breath away.  You look very much better, by the by.”

Mary found herself blushing a bit under his amazed appreciation.  Then she shook herself and got back to business.  She put the mirror back in its place in her bag, closed the bag smartly, recovered her umbrella, giving it a reproving glance as she did so, and walked briskly to the edge of the roof.

She turned back to Bert and said, “Well, Bert Higgins, it has been a pleasure to meet you, and I am glad you have taken no injury from my ill-placed landing.”

“Oh, no, Miss Poppins, the pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” he grinned, bowing deeply as though he was a lord and she a lady.  “If ever you need anything, you come and find me.  Oh, and here, you need this.”  And he came forward, cleaning his hand with an almost clean red handkerchief he drew from his pocket.  “You just shake my hand, and you’ll be as lucky as can be.  It’s well known that a handshake from a chimneysweep is a lucky thing!”

Mary cocked her head to the side, examining the newly clean hand stuck out towards her, and then Bert’s friendly sooty face.  She smiled, a bit shyly, but shook his hand once, very firmly.

“That’s it, Miss Poppins, that’s it!  Now you should have a nice easy flight down to the street.”

“Thank you, Bert, you are very kind.  Are you always on the rooftops?”

“No, no, I’m everywhere, me, I do all kinds of work.  I just started drawing chalk pavement pictures, and I’ve even got meself a one-man-band contraption.  Still learning how to play the thing, drives me mates half crazy, it does!  But I’m often in Regents Park, or Hyde Park, when I’m not on the rooftops.  You come and find me.”

The warmth in his smile and the kindness in his eyes made Mary blush again, just a little.  Then she drew herself up, opened her umbrella, and stepped onto the railing.  A little gust lifted her up just a little and then with another gentle tap on the handle she gently descended, this time landing perfectly on the stoop.  She looked back up at the top of the house, and sure enough, Bert had leaned over and was giving her an encouraging wave.  She nodded to him, and raised the brass knocker, only to have the door open before the knocker fell, to reveal a harried looking middle-aged man, gripping the hand of a recalcitrant-looking boy of seven.

He began to say, “I’m sorry, the surgery is closed—“

“I am Miss Mary Poppins, the nanny you sent for.”

He blinked a bit, glanced down at the weakly wriggling boy, and a look of relief and puzzlement came over his face.  “I don’t remember contacting the agency—“

“Oh, but you did, Dr. MacGregor, and here I am.  Now then, this must be Anthony.  Goodness, young man, you look as angry as a pickled herring.  What you need is a bit of quiet time in the nursery.”

She took the boy’s other hand, as the father let go the one he’d been holding.

“Good. Now then, my terms are quite reasonable, Dr. MacGregor, and I will present them to you as soon as I’ve settled Anthony in the nursery.  Is that where your daughter Victoria is?”

He opened his mouth, as though he wanted to ask a question, but then closed it again.  Finally, he answered, “Yes, yes, I believe so.  I caught Anthony in the surgery.  Third time this week, he’s been in there, unrolling the bandages and spilling the antiseptic.  I’m at the end of my tether, I don’t mind telling you, Miss Poppins.”

“I only wanted to show you I can be a doctor too, Papa,” the boy said, truculently, as he attempted to free his hand from Mary’s firm grip, to no avail.

Mary looked down with a severe look, allowing a tiny twinkle of kindness into her eyes at the same time.  “Master Anthony, you are not old enough to be a real doctor.  And you might injure yourself, or spill something dangerous in your father’s surgery.  I think I can find enough to keep you busy with in the nursery.”

“Oh, Miss Poppins,” the doctor said, “I’m afraid I should warn you, the last nanny we had quit very abruptly, and the maids won’t do any more than clean the nursery.  The children’s discipline has been somewhat neglected since – since my wife passed away three months ago.” 

“Never mind, Doctor.  Now then, Anthony, you’d best take me up to the nursery, please.  Spit, spot!”  The doctor watched as they started up the stairs, Anthony dragging his feet up each step, then turned away to go and clean up the mess.

Mary sensed he was no longer watching and stopped halfway up the flight of stairs that led straight to the first floor.  “You’ll find that this sort of behavior won’t go far with me, Anthony.  If you can’t pick up your feet, then I must simply help you do so.”  She kept her firm grip on the boy’s hand and snapped her fingers.  Their feet left the carpet and they began to float upward toward the landing.

Anthony was speechless at first, then he turned his face up to her and said, quite calmly, “This is magic, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps.  It’s certainly got your attention though, hasn’t it?”

“Papa says that magic doesn’t exist.  So there must be a scientrific explanation for how you’re doing this.”

“'Scientific', Anthony, and no, I’m sorry, there isn’t.  But there’s a reason your father says that.  He’s an adult, and they take longer to realize that magic is everywhere, even in science.   You’ll see.”

Mary floated them both up both flights of stairs to the second floor and then brought them back down to the carpeted landing. 

“The nursery is just down the corridor, I expect,” said Mary, still keeping hold of Anthony’s hand.  He looked up at her again, with a considering look, before giving a little nod of his head and starting to lead her forward.

She permitted herself a small smile of satisfaction, and followed the boy’s lead.

The nursery was quite tidy, a few books on a desk and a puzzle on the nursery table being the only things not tidied away. In a window seat at the far end of the long room, a girl of ten sat reading.  Her red hair was in a very inept braid, the end of which was in her mouth, as she sat absorbed in her book.

She was about to call out to her, but was preempted by Anthony, who said, “Vicky, we’ve got a new one.”

Without looking up from her book, the girl replied, “One what, Ant?” 

“A nanny.  Look, she’s here.”

Victoria looked up to coolly survey the new arrival. “Oh.  So she is.” Desultorily, she put down the book and stood up.  She made no move to join Mary and her brother, so Mary, dropping Anthony’s hand, came forward briskly, stepping deftly around the detritus on the floor.

“Hello, Victoria.  I am Miss Mary Poppins.  What book were you reading just now?”

“A novel, Miss Poppins.”

“May I see?”

The girl regarded her with a steady gaze for a moment, before turning to pick up the book and hand it to Mary as she approached.

“Ah, Northanger Abbey!  Miss Austen is always amusing.  I am pleased that you are reading so far beyond most girls of your age.”

“I don’t really need a nanny, and you’re not a governess.  I was hoping Papa would just send me off to school somewhere, but he won’t.  It’s not fair.”

“Indeed, a great girl of ten should be at school, but until that happens, I have some training as a governess as well, so I can guide your studies, if your father approves.”

“He won’t care.  He doesn’t care about anything but his work, really.  Can you really be my governess as well?  That would be all right with me.  But I warn you, I like to learn things that most little girls don’t.”

“Such as?”

“Astronomy, military history, Latin and Greek.  I have no use for French and German is quite horrid.  I can’t sew a stitch without making my fingers bleed and the only sort of recipes I like to follow are chemical ones.  Father says I’m impossible, but it’s his fault for letting me watch him all those years, even before Mama --  Anyway, can you help me with any of that, do you think?”

“Some of it, certainly, but you know, most girls’ schools won’t teach you any of those things.  I think perhaps a compromise might be reached.  A bit of astronomy and Latin, and then a bit of French and sock-darning.  Both are useful in the real world, I think you’ll find.”

Victoria looked as though she might object, but then relented and nodded.  “I suppose you’re right.  What else shall we be doing?”

“Well, I very much approve of getting children out into the open air, lots of exercise and no nonsense about it,” Mary said, opening the window behind Victoria to let in some of the freshening morning air.  “In fact, I think that’s what we should do right this minute.  The nursery is very tidy, but even with a newly opened window, a bit stifling.  Come on then, both of you, get your hats and coats on.  I can unpack and settle in later.”

She handed a brush to Victoria, indicating the messy braid.  “Undo that and brush it out, it needs to be braided again, I think.  Anthony, have you a pocket comb?”

“No, Miss Poppins.”

She looked a bit shocked, but conjured one behind her back and handed it to him, as though she’d had it in her hand all along.  He grinned, ran it through his straight fair hair a few times and handed it back.  She winked at him, as though to say, “the magic’s our little secret for now”. He laboriously winked back, and then went to get his cap and coat.

Once the children were combed and dressed for the outing, she looked them over with a brusque nod of pleasure.  “Now then, off we go.  Regents Park is just a few streets away.  Have either of you a hoop and stick?”

“No, miss, I lost it last week and Papa was so angry, he refused to get us a new one," said Anthony.

“Oh, dear.  Well, we shall see what we can do about that.  Meanwhile there are many other entertainments and tasks we can find.  Come along, children.”

She led them downstairs, feet firmly on the carpeted stairs this time.  At the bottom of the stairs, the doctor stood going through some mail on the hall table.  He looked up and gave a vague harried smile.

“Off out, are you?  Good, good.  Oh, your terms, Miss – uh –“

“Poppins, Doctor.  I will acquaint you with them this evening, if that’s all right.  I would like to take advantage of this lovely weather, and give the children a good outing in the park.”

He waved a hand rather vaguely, and said, “Yes, yes, of course.  Off you go then.”

He made no move to even pat the children on the heads as they passed.  They might have been strangers for all the attention he was paying them.  Mary made a note of this, and resolved to fix that situation as soon as she could.

 

Regents Park on that May afternoon was full of nannies and children and a few fond parents, as well as ducks to be fed, and balloons to be held, and other delights.  As Mary led the children along the Broad Walk, toward the Zoological Gardens (a request by Anthony to see the Monkey House had been put forward and agreed to by all three), a familiar voice greeted her from the side of the walkway. 

“Miss Mary Poppins, I thought that was you!  Remember me?  Bert Higgins?”

At first, she was unsure if she should acknowledge him, but then she shook herself.  The children should be exposed to any and all experiences, as long as they were not harmful, and Bert certainly wasn’t harmful.  He stood, his face scrubbed of soot, but still in mostly black, next to a row of chalk pictures. They weren’t particularly good, but the colors and subjects were cheerful.  His cap was placed in one of them with a frame drawn around it, and the words “Gratooities Much Appreshiated” along the top.

Mary led the children over to him and made introductions.

Bert gave them both a friendly smile of recognition.  “Oh, yes, I’ve seen you two about, not as much lately, though.”

Victoria said, gravely, “Our last nanny left us about two weeks ago.”

“Oh, yes, old sourpuss Mavens.  I can imagine she wasn’t much fun to have around.”

Mary put on her most severe look of disapproval.  “Now, Bert, you mustn’t encourage the children to think badly of their elders.  I’m sure Miss Mavens was a very adequate nanny.  Perhaps it was the children who were at fault.”

“These two lovelies?  Nah, don’t you believe it.  I remember the last time I saw them in this here exact location.  She had them both by the hands and was draggin’ ‘em along like they was two sacks of potatoes –“

“Bert!”

He winced, but grinned again.  “Sorry, Miss Poppins, sorry.  All in all, though, I’m sure they’re very lucky children to have a nice nanny like you.  Where are you three off to, then?” he asked Anthony.

“We’re going to see the monkeys.” 

“Oh, well! Now that sounds like just the thing.  Would you mind if I came along?  Not too many coins coming my way today, sadly.  Should have gone to one more drawing class at the Workman’s Institute.”

“Can he come, Miss Poppins?  Please?” Anthony begged.

“I suppose so, but he’d better mind his manners.”  She allowed her eyes to twinkle just a bit in his direction, and he beamed back at her.

“I shall be as good as gold, Miss Poppins, good as gold!”

“We shall see.  Come along then, children, spit spot!”

The visit to the Monkey House was very successful, Bert had the children laughing with his imitations of the different monkeys and apes, and Mary was glad to see them enjoying themselves.  It was particularly good to see Victoria acting like a real little girl, instead of the solemn child she’d encountered this morning.

After the zoo, she bought them all ices from a cart, and a parcel of stale bread to feed the ducks with.  She and Bert stood behind the children at the shore of the lake and tossed a piece here and there.  She found herself feeling at such ease with a man she’d known for barely a day.  At first, she suspected him of just trying to impress her, but soon it was very obvious that the warmth she’d felt at their first encounter was a real part of the man.  He seemed to have a cheery smile or word for everyone, and whenever possible, he would shake hands with acquaintances and strangers alike.

He might not have magic as I know it, she thought, but he has his own brand of enchantment, surely.  She made a mental note to ask her old Professor at the Academy about chimneysweeps and if there was some sort of innate glamour that came with the profession.  She had always heard it was a hard profession to be in, but she was pleased to see that it wasn’t always the case, apparently. 

The parcel of bread being duly doled out to the ducks and swans, they turned away and Mary announced that there were a couple of small errands she needed to run at the shops on the High Street. 

“Well, I shall leave you all then,” said Bert, doffing his cap politely.  “I’ve got to go and practice with me one-man-band contraption.  Still having troubles with those cymbals!  Hope to see you another time, Miss Poppins.  Master and Miss MacGregor, you have yourselves a lovely day.  Now then, shake my hand, that’s good luck, see?  Never refuse to shake the hand of a sweep, and you’ll be lucky till the end of your days!  Cheerio!”

They had just turned on to High Street when a new voice hailed Mary from up above.  Looking up, Mary and the children saw a head sticking out of an upper story window above what looked to be a milliner’s shop.  It was an old woman, a linen mob cap shoved onto her mop of gray curls.  She waved a handkerchief rather frantically, and called out, “Yes, Mary Poppins, my dear niece, do come up, there’s a good gel.  I require you urgently, my dear!”

Mary refrained from making an annoyed noise, and simply went to the door that was located to the right of the milliner’s shop.  It was a rather battered door, its black paint chipped, and the brass knocker in dire need of a polish.  There was no number on the door itself, but rather shakily painted on the white door frame in black paint was the number 49.  Mary, with a small sigh, turned the stiff knob in the center of the door and went in, admonishing the children to be on their best behavior as they followed her inside.

The entryway within was dim and smelled faintly of rotten eggs and lavender.  Victoria wrinkled her nose, and moved closer to Mary.  A stairway led up to the right and Mary led the children up it.  On the first floor landing, she stopped and turned to the children. 

“I am sorry about this, children, but I see no way around it.  That woman is my Aunt Euphronia, she is extremely eccentric and you mustn’t believe anything she says.  If anything – unusual – happens, just stay close to me and you will be perfectly safe.  Oh, and I shouldn’t mention this to your father, at least not yet.”

The children looked rather alarmed, but intrigued in spite of that, and they followed her up the next flight of stairs in eager silence.

On the next landing a series of doors ranged along one side of the stairwell and the one that Mary led them to was standing slightly open.  From the dim stairwell, they stepped into what seemed to be a whirlwind of color and light.  There were strings of prisms hung from the ceiling, catching the light of dozens of lamps and candles on most of the surfaces - tables, cabinets - around the small parlor.  They threw dancing, glittering reflections onto the bright mauve wallpaper and the electric blue brocade sofa. Adding to the kaleidoscope of colors, there were brightly colored silk shawls thrown across chairs and tables and the tiny piano in one corner. 

The children’s mouths were open, Mary noticed, and she gently tapped each of their chins, saying, “Close your mouths, Victoria and Anthony, we are not fish.”

At those words, the old lady turned from the window and showed herself to be the most colorful thing in the room.  Her dress was more of a robe, and it was a robe of many colors and fabrics, in haphazard shapes.  It hung from her shoulders and was caught around the waist with what appeared to be a curtain tie, complete with heavy tassels, of green and gold. The skirt trailed upon the floor, rustling slightly. The linen cap on her head, they could now see, was embroidered quite fancifully with dragonflies and ivy buds and irises around the brim. 

Adjusting her eyes to the overwhelming sight, Mary said, “Now then, Aunt, what is so urgent?  Can you not see I have my charges with me?”

The old woman hurried forward and grasped Mary’s hand and pulled her to the couch and onto it in one smooth motion.  “Oh, Mary, dear, I am sorry, and such nice children they seem to be, but I just can’t do it.  I just can’t, you see.”

“What can’t you do, Aunt?”

“I can’t get it to work, I’ve been puttering about with the wretched stuff all day, but it just won’t work.  The batter is all wrong, I assume, but I don’t know what I’ve got wrong.  If you, or perhaps one of the children, would like to try it?”

“Aunt, you still haven’t told me what you’re trying to do.”

“Oh, dear, haven’t I?  Oh, I thought it would be obvious, but I suppose not.  Well, then, what I am trying to make are cloud cookies.  You know that Albert needs them for his tea on Saturday.  The Juvenal club just can’t do without them.  How else will the tea parties on the ceiling happen?  It isn’t all about the laughter, you know!”

Mary saw Anthony nudge Victoria, who was looking very dubious suddenly.  “Now, Aunt, you need to calm down.  Tea parties on the ceiling, indeed.  You know perfectly well that they are tea parties near the ceiling, and very dangerous they are, too.  I well remember having to carry poor old Mr. Nuggins to the hospital after he broke his leg falling from the chair.”

“Oh, yes, that was unfortunate, but he would insist on remembering his poor old mother whenever he ate bread and butter, so of course he was likely to fall.  And he has no taste for cloud cookies, so there you have it.  Now then, will you come and taste the batter and see what I’ve got wrong?”

Mary took another look at the children, and at Victoria’s doubting expression, and then, with mock annoyance, said, “I suppose we should all try a bit, just to see.” 

She had been meaning to introduce Victoria to her magical world a bit more slowly, but she could see the solemnity of this morning creeping back in, especially at the mention of Mr. Nuggins’ mother.  So it was time to let her see that the world was not entirely as she thought it to be.

Aunt Euphronia’s robe swished by a small table and almost knocked over the candle on it.  Mary righted it with a flick of her finger, and looked over at Anthony to see if he noticed.  He had and was trying to tell Victoria about it, but she wasn’t listening. 

“Don’t be idiotic, Ant.  There’s no such thing as magic, Papa says so.”

“But Mama always said –“ 

“Mama said a lot of things, Ant,  I remember them all.  I don’t need you to parrot them back at me.”

Anthony hung his head and shuffled his feet.  Mary wanted to comfort him, but she knew that distraction was the better medicine.

Her aunt returned, bearing a large ceramic mixing bowl full of a very fluffy batter.  It looked more like spun sugar than cookie dough, but she was stirring it slowly, and when she set it on a table near the couch, she invited them all to dip a finger. 

Anthony and Victoria both came forward, Anthony eagerly dipping his finger in, Victoria much more warily running a finger along the edge where a bit had clung.  They both tasted the dough at the same time, and Anthony’s eyes lit up, before he came out with, “Golly, that’s delicious!”

Victoria judiciously touched her tongue to her finger, then finding that she liked the taste, licked the rest of the dough off the tip.  Mary then dipped a finger in herself, and tasted the mixture. 

“Well, Mary, my dear?  What do you think?  Too much fairy wing?  Or not enough cumulus seed?”

As she said this, Victoria gave a gasp as her feet began to leave the floor.  She instinctively grabbed Anthony’s hand, only to find he was already in the air himself.  They floated not too very far above the ground, since they’d only had a tiny amount.  Mary herself had begun to rise just a touch off the couch.

“You see, my dear?  It really doesn’t seem to be working properly.”

“Not at all, Aunt.  It’s perfectly fine, but you know it will only work a little when you eat only a small amount.  And it wears off so quickly, for the same reason.  Have you actually made any of it into cookies?”

“Well, no, but I’ve been tasting it, as you say.  Do you really think that’s the problem?”

Mary permitted herself a tiny martyred sigh.  “Yes, Aunt, because it usually is the problem.  Remember the last time you made them?  It was exactly the same.”

Her Aunt looked perplexed, but then brightened.  “Well, I’m sure you’re right, my dear, I’ll try that.”  She took the bowl then, wiggled her fingers over it, said a couple of words that the children didn’t understand, but Mary knew as the baking spell, and the bowl changed instantly to a plate full of rainbow colored cookies, in the shape of clouds.

Victoria and Anthony, having come back down to the floor, came forward, ready to try the actual cookies, but Mary stopped them.

“I’m sorry, children, but you are too young to experience the effects of a cloud cookie in its finished form.  Perhaps someday, but not now.  Now, Aunt, we must be leaving, the children should be getting home for their own tea, and I still need to do the errands I came here for.”

“Oh, thank you for setting this muddle-headed old witch aright, my dear!  And, children, thank you as well, you were admirable test subjects!”

“Now, Auntie, you’re not a witch, you’re a sorceress, remember?”

She patted the old woman’s hand, and stood up from the couch.  “Give Uncle Albert my best, and tell him to be careful!”

“I will, my dear.  Come back and see me again soon!  We’ll have some seaweed cakes and salt water tea!”

Mary hurried the children out and down to the street. 

As she took them into the shops to buy some soap and some sweets, she could sense Victoria was fairly bursting to ask questions.  Mary knew she wouldn’t be allowed to answer most of them, but she would try to give the girl a few answers.

Sure enough, the moment they were back in the nursery on Harley Street, Victoria began peppering Mary with questions, not even waiting to hear the answers.

“Are you a witch?  There are no such things, but are you?  Or are you some sort of magician?  I saw you keep that candle from falling at your aunt’s house.  And what is she?  Is she a sorceress, as you said?  Honestly, how can she be?  This is almost the 20th century!  Papa will be livid, I’ll have to tell him—“

“No, Vicky!” shouted Anthony.  “Miss Poppins said we mustn’t.  He’d never understand, and he’d make her leave, and I don’t want her to go.  So you can’t tell him, not ever!”

“Oh, Ant, don’t be such a child, of course, we must tell him, he’s our father.  He can’t want us to be looked after by some crazy magician parading as a nanny!”

Mary stood back and let them argue for a moment more, before clearing her throat very loudly.  “That is enough out of both of you.  Anthony, you should not shout at your sister, she is your elder and should be respected as such.  Victoria, I am neither a witch nor a magician, and if you really feel you cannot have me as your nanny, I will simply leave.  If you need to tell your father, I quite understand.  But I would like first to speak to you, if you will let me.”

Victoria’s head was still held high in disbelief and indignation, but she nodded, keeping her arms folded defiantly across her chest.

“Very well.  Now then, as I have explained to Anthony, I am capable of performing certain acts of magic, small spells, and other enchantments that make my job easier.  I use my magic to entertain and educate the children in my charge and I use it also to make their lives a bit better, to help them through any difficulties they might face.  I never, ever use it to harm anyone or anything.  I can’t tell you where it comes from or how it works, although with your inquisitive mind you must be dying to know.  I am forbidden by my academy to tell you more.  But if you can use that inquisitive mind of yours to be open to things that you don’t necessarily understand, it will serve you well in your later educational endeavours.  If the customs of English universities change to allow young women to actually receive degrees, you may find yourself at one of them, and you will need to always keep an open mind, a questioning mind, so that you can learn all the things that are there to be learned.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Victoria’s defiance had dwindled as Mary spoke, and now her eyes shone with the idea that she might be allowed to learn even some of the things she was curious to know.  She nodded, saying, “I do see that, Miss Poppins.  And I am dying to know more about your magic, but if I mustn’t know now, maybe I shall know someday.  Do you think so?”

“Perhaps, I cannot say for sure.  But for now, let us have our tea, and we shall endeavor not to float to the ceiling!”

After their tea, she allowed the children an hour or so of recreation, and she took herself downstairs to present her terms to their father.

She inquired of the housemaid where he might be, and she was directed to his study on the first floor.  She went to the door and knocked firmly.  There was no answer, and the housemaid who was just about to go downstairs, whispered loudly, "You'll have to knock a few times, miss.  He's that distracted these days, he don't always hear right away."

Mary nodded, and knocked again.  Eventually, after two more knocks, she finally heard the doctor say, "Yes? What is it?" in an impatient voice.  She opened the door and went in.  It was obvious immediately that this was where the doctor spent most of his time.  The desk was littered with books and papers, and tables and chairs were similarly adorned.  The doctor was seated at the desk, pen in hand, apparently entering some accounts in a ledger.

He glanced up, vaguely registering who it was, and then back down to the ledger.  "What have they done now?"

"Sir?"

"I assume you've come to tell me they've done something terrible."

"Not at all, Dr. MacGregor.  I only came to tell you about our day and to give you my terms, as I said I would."

The wary look in his eyes went away, and he sat back, laying his pen down and closing the ledger.  "Of course, of course.  I'm sorry.  It's been a very hard three months, as you might imagine, Miss Poppins."

"Indeed, Doctor, I quite understand.  The children, however, seem to be perfectly governable, if a bit solemn.  But I think I can endeavor to bring them into a happier way of being.  Victoria, of course, could be at school, but I have some training as a governess, so I can guide her studies, if that would meet with your approval."

"Vicky?  Yes, of course, I suppose she should be at school, but I just can't quite bring myself to part with her, just now.  You understand."

Mary smiled, sympathetically.  "Of course, Doctor.  I will make sure that she is fit to attend any school you choose to send her to, in the time that I am here.  These are my terms, in writing."  She handed him a sheet of paper that she had pulled out her carpetbag earlier. 

He looked them over, nodded, and said, "Of course, of course.  Perfectly agreeable.  Now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to my accounts."

"Pardon me, Dr. MacGregor, but do you have any instructions for me?  Any requirements for the children's education or care that you wish me to attend to especially?"

The question seemed to puzzle him.  "Ah, yes, well.  I just want to see that they're all right, that they are cared for, and I actually would like to make sure they stay in the nursery as much as possible, at least for right now."

"Forgive me, Doctor, but you just said you didn't like to send Victoria to school because you didn't like to be away from her.  Yet now you tell me you would rather not see them more than now and then?  I must own to being a little confused."

His face darkened a little, and his tone turned icy as he replied, "And I must own, Miss Poppins, that it is not your business.  You asked for instructions, I've given them to you.  If they are not satisfactory, you can find employment elsewhere.  Good evening."

She bowed her head, controlling her own temper, and merely wished her employer a good evening and left him alone.  She went down to the kitchen, where the cook gave her a nice cup of tea and gossiped harmlessly about the neighbors.  This soothed Mary's temper, so that she felt she could return to her duties.  She would have time to deal with the doctor and to help him find comfort in his children and they in him.  She hoped it would be enough time, but she could only do what she could do.  Magic helped, but the family had to want to be helped, or the magic wouldn't be enough.

Later in the evening, after she had tucked both of the children into bed, and Anthony had gone right to sleep from all the excitement, she sat on Victoria’s bed.  Then, with a swirl of her fingers and an enhanced perception spell muttered under her breath, stars began to appear across the ceiling.  Victoria let out a delighted cry, as one by one, constellations appeared that she recognized, and she named each one aloud, in an awestruck whisper.  In her excitement, she took Mary’s hand.  Mary held it, knowing that this was a first step toward healing Victoria’s grief over her mother, and also a next step toward the girl creating her own identity.  Dangerous, perhaps, but Mary scented change in the winds of history, just as surely as she knew when the wind would change that would take her away from Victoria and Anthony, and into the lives of some other family who needed her.

After Victoria finally fell asleep counting stars, Mary was just finishing darning a pair of Anthony’s socks when she heard a jaunty whistle coming from somewhere above.  She went upstairs to where the maids slept, and found a window that led out onto the roof.  She climbed out and saw Bert leaning against the chimney, munching on an apple.

“You’ve already cleaned these chimneys, Bert.  What are you doing here?”

“Came to see how your day went, this being the first and all.  Those are some wonderful young’uns.  Like to see them getting cheered up, after what they’ve been through.”

She smiled at him.  Why did it feel as though they’d been friends for years?  It was quite uncanny.  “You’re a good man, Bert Higgins.  They’ll be all right, I think.  I just have to get through to their father that they’re wonderful, and not just a sad reminder of his poor wife.  It must have devastated him, a doctor, not to be able to save her.”

“That’s what I heard.  Tragic, it was, she was a beauty, and no mistake.  Had a great sense of humor, too, and so kind.”

“I imagine she must have been.  I hope that I can help them all to remember but to move on with their lives, as well.  This will be quite a tough first assignment, indeed.”

“How long will you stay?”

“Only till the wind changes.  That’s how it works, so if it’s going to happen, I’ve got to make sure it happens before then.”

“Crikey!  That’s not a very long time.  Well, if I can be of any more help, you just let me know.” He tugged on his cap, and pulled two more apples out of his jacket pocket, offering one to her.  She took it and they ate together in companionable silence.  Somewhere a church clock chimed the hour, and Mary realized she was getting a bit chilled.  She stood up and Bert walked her back to the window. 

He stuck out his hand, as he had this morning, and she took it without hesitating, this time holding it a little longer before shaking it.  Their eyes met and she felt hers twinkle without even trying.  He grinned and held up the sash, as she stepped inside.

“Good night, Miss Mary Poppins.  I do hope that old wind stays in one direction for a good long time.”

“So do I, Bert, so do I.”


End file.
